


If only I had been there for you

by Space_Hawk



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (But it's clearly not his fault), (Even if he feels guilty), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But at least Iroh is there for him, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, My poor boy Zuko deserves so much better, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, POV Iroh (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25974574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Hawk/pseuds/Space_Hawk
Summary: It was all his fault.He hadn’t even tried to stop the Agni Kai. If he had, maybe he could have talked some sense into his brother. Maybe he could have prevented all this.Or, the first week after the fateful Agni Kai is rough for both of them, but Iroh promises that he will always be there for his nephew. No matter what.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68





	If only I had been there for you

**Author's Note:**

> TW in the end notes.

It was his fault.

He was the one who let the kid into the war meeting. And look what had happened.

Iroh shifted ever so slightly from his place by the bed to gently brush a strand of hair away from his nephew’s sweat-soaked face, careful not to wake him from his fitful sleep. Zuko merely gave a small whimper and curled in on himself more tightly. The part of his face that was visible was contorted in pain. The rest was heavily bandaged.

It was all his fault.

He hadn’t even tried to stop the Agni Kai. If he had, maybe he could have talked some sense into his brother. Maybe he could have prevented all this.

_The crowd around Iroh chittered with excitement and anticipation. Many years had passed since the palace’s formal Agni Kai chamber had been used and it had been even longer since there was to be a duel of this magnitude._

_But Iroh was worried. He knew Zuko was a decent firebender, but he was still so young and inexperienced. Especially compared to the general who had been training for years._

_A hush fell over the crowd, signalling that the duel was about to begin, but when Iroh looked up, his heart stopped._

_Standing opposite Zuko wasn’t the general whom he had disrespected, but instead the Fire Lord himself._

_He should have known- Zuko had spoken out in the Fire Lord’s war room and in doing so, he had disrespected the Fire Lord. And now he was going to pay the price._

_“Please, Father,” Zuko begged as he dropped to his knees before the Fire Lord. “I only had the Fire Nation’s best interests at heart. I’m sorry I spoke out of turn.”_

_“You will fight for your honor.”_

_“I meant you no disrespect. I am your loyal son.” Zuko bowed low. Iroh could see tears in his eyes._

_“Rise and fight, Prince Zuko,” the Fire Lord demanded as he bore down on his son._

_“I won’t fight you.” The Fire Lord grabbed his son’s chin and forced him to meet his eyes._

_“You will learn respect and suffering will be your teacher.” Iroh looked away, unable to watch what came next._

_But he heard Zuko’s screams. The sound would haunt him until his dying breath._

_“You are a coward. You are weak.” Ozai’s cold voice reverberated through the chamber. Zuko laid crumpled at his feet, sobbing in pain. “Henceforth, you are banished from the Fire Nation. Bring me the Avatar. Only then will I restore your honor.”_

_With that, the Fire Lord turned and walked out of the chamber without looking back. The crowd was momentarily left stunned before they too began to clear the chamber, murmuring quietly amongst themselves._

_Iroh was the first to Zuko’s side. No one else even acknowledged he was there, let alone tried to help._

_The boy’s sobs had quieted though his face was cradled in his hands._

_“Shhhh, my dear nephew. It’s going to be okay. I’m here for you,” said Iroh softly as he gently rubbed the boy’s back. “Hey! Don’t just stand there, help me with him,” Iroh snapped at the two closest guards. For now he would pretend that he didn’t notice how Zuko flinched when he raised his voice._

_Less than ten minutes later they had the prince spread out on his bed with a healer tending to him. Even before she said anything, Iroh knew it was bad._

_The burn, which looked vaguely like a handprint, was centered around his left eye and encased a large portion of that side of his face. It wrapped around past his hairline and continued all the way to his ear. It was gruesome, but Iroh refused to look away._

_Several hours had passed before the healer announced that she had done all she could. She had put a faintly floral-smelling ointment on and dressed it with bandages. A small section of hair had been shaved where it had been burned. She said it would leave a scar, but Iroh had already known that. His brother meant for it to leave a scar. It was to be a reminder of his weakness. A reminder that Zuko would carry with him for the rest of his life._

Now Iroh didn’t have proof, but he feared that this wasn’t the first reminder his brother had left. That the Agni Kai wasn’t the first time the Fire Lord had laid his hands on his son. The thought made him feel sick. How could he have been so blind?

But Iroh swore that he would never let it happen again.

“I’m so sorry, my sweet nephew. I’m going to make this right. I won’t fail you again,” he whispered as he got up.

With one last look at his nephew’s pained face, Iroh sighed and quietly shut the door behind him. He was going to help him, no matter what it took. 

\-----

“Ah, brother. I was thinking that you might come.” Fire Lord Ozai grinned down at Iroh from his throne, face partially obscured by shadows from the flames flickering around him. 

“Fire Lord Ozai,” he began. “I request your permission to follow Prince Zuko into his banishment. I wish to aid in his hunt for the Avatar.” Iroh knew that this search was futile. The Avatar had died over a hundred years ago and Ozai knew it too. Why else would he have assigned such a task? 

Ozai despised the kid since the day he was born. He saw the genuine goodness in Zuko’s eyes- eyes that were so much like Ursa’s, and tried to snuff it out. That goodness, in Ozai’s mind, was weakness. And someone with such weakness could never be anything, certainly not Fire Lord. Someone with such weakness didn’t have a place in Ozai’s court. That was why he always favored Azula- she was everything Zuko wasn’t. Uncompromising. Power-hungry. Cruel. In other words, she wasn’t weak.

Iroh should have seen this coming. The same thing happened with Ursa. Ozai saw her kind heart as weakness and got rid of it by getting rid of her. To this day, Iroh still didn’t know what happened to her, but he feared the worst.

And now, the same thing was going to happen to Zuko.

By banishing Zuko, forcing him on a quest that was doomed to fail before it had even begun, Ozai had eradicated all of his remaining weaknesses.

But this time, Iroh would not stand silently by and let it happen. He refused to abandon his nephew.

“I will grant your request.” A cold smile passed over Ozai’s mouth. “I’m sure Prince Zuko would be honored to have a powerful general such as yourself accompany him on his search.”

Iroh wasn’t surprised. He was the only person who could legitimately challenge Ozai’s throne and so, his brother wanted him gone. Almost as much as he wanted Zuko gone.

Several years had passed since Ozai ascended to the throne as the dying wish of Fire Lord Azulon and Iroh had been too consumed by the grief of losing his son to challenge this at the time. But again, he did have his suspicions about what really happened to Fire Lord Azulon. 

Not that it really mattered. Despite all his brother’s paranoia, Iroh didn’t want to be Fire Lord- he knew his destiny lay elsewhere. But, though Iroh would not be its harbinger, he was certain that Ozai’s day of reckoning would come. He just hoped that he would be there to see it. 

“In fact, I will even grant you a small ship with a skeleton crew,” Ozai continued. “Provided you leave before dawn, that is.”

Again, Iroh knew Ozai wasn’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart - not that there was any in there to begin with. This was just another way for him to ensure that they stayed gone. Another way for him to secure his power. And the sooner they left, the better.

“That is very generous of you, Fire Lord Ozai.” Iroh choked out the words, spewing all the venom he could muster along with them. He was furious at this facade of politeness that society mandated he put on while Ozai just sat there, enjoying watching his brother grovel at his feet after he had burned half his son’s face off just a few hours earlier.

How could a father do that to his own son?

But more than anything, Iroh was furious with himself. He had failed to keep Zuko from speaking out and he had failed to stop the Agni Kai. 

And now look what had happened. It was all his fault.

Iroh took a deep breath to calm the firestorm raging within him. Now was not the time to lose his temper. He had to put his own feelings aside and think about Zuko. Ozai had taken everything from him today and he would need someone when he woke up. Someone who would stand by his side, no matter what and Iroh was determined to be that person.

He wouldn’t fail again. 

Ozai’s eyes, glinting with satisfaction, bore into him as he exited the throne room.

\-----

Within the hour, the ship was loaded and ready to set sail and throughout the whole process Iroh had refused to leave Zuko’s side. 

Even now, with both of them safely on board and about to leave the Fire Nation, Iroh refused to leave.

He heard footsteps and the faint clank of armor as a woman entered the room, but he didn’t bother looking up from his spot next to Zuko’s bed.

“General Iroh,” the woman said. “My name is Yui and I am the captain of this ship. We’re almost ready to set sail. To where should I set a course? At this Iroh finally looked up.

In the doorway was a tall, middle-aged woman with jet black hair pulled back into a tight bun. Though Iroh had never heard of her, her hard stance commanded the authority and respect of a seasoned general. 

But in her gold-flecked eyes, Iroh could see pity.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied, turning his focus back to the boy lying in front of him. “Just get us out of Fire Nation waters.”

“Of course, Sir,” she said, bowing briefly before leaving them alone in the room once again.

\-----

It was three days before Zuko woke up.

Three days in which Iroh never left his side, not even for a moment. Crew members would bring him food and supplies to redo Zuko’s bandages, but otherwise they left him alone. He was grateful for that.

Though he didn’t know exactly where they were, he could tell that they were out of Fire Nation waters. He couldn’t explain it, but something about the waves just seemed...calmer. Perhaps the nature of the waves reflected the nature of the people whose territory it was. That would explain why Fire Nation waters always seemed so rough and violent compared to the rest of the world.

“Uncle,” a small, scared voice rasped, shaking Iroh loose from his thoughts. 

“I’m here, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said, grasping the boy’s hand and repositioning himself so he could be seen in the dimly lit room. “How are you feeling?” he asked, but the look on his nephew’s face said it all. He gently felt the boy’s forehead with the back of his hand and internally cursed; he was burning up.

“Here, drink some of this. It will help.” The tea, a sweet chamomile that was laced with a sedative, had long since gone cold, but Iroh carefully reheated it before helping it into his nephew’s mouth. 

“Leaves from the vine, falling so slow.” Iroh sang softly as he took the now-empty cup back and helped the boy get settled again. “Like fragile, tiny shells, drifting in the foam.” 

Even with the ship’s natural heat radiating around them, the boy shivered under his blankets and curled in tight on himself. But still, he clutched Iroh’s hand like it was a lifeline and in many ways, it was. 

“Little soldier boy, come marching home.”

As Iroh sang, he watched the tension painted on his nephew’s face slowly slip away and it wasn’t long before he was deep asleep.

“Brave soldier boy, comes marching home.”

\-----

“Prince Zuko, you should rest. Your body needs time to heal.”

“No!” Zuko snapped. “I need to capture the Avatar. I can rest when I’m back home.” Iroh just sighed. He knew that arguing with the boy wasn’t going to accomplish anything; he could be as bullheaded as a komodo rhino when he wanted to be.

After two days of chills and drifting in and out of consciousness, Zuko’s fever had finally broken a few hours ago. But the boy was still weak. He needed time to heal, both physically and mentally, from the trauma he had endured not even five days ago.

But instead, Iroh watched his nephew pace around his room with maps clutched in his hands and desperation written across his face. Every few steps the boy would stumble and grab hold of something- either the wall, a chair, or his desk, to steady himself before resuming his pacing. Iroh could see a slight sheen of sweat glistening on the back of his neck and his shoulders sagged like they were carrying the weight of the world.

“Then allow me to relay your orders to Captain Yui.”

“No,” Zuko said again, but the anger in his voice had faded, leaving only exhaustion in its place. “This is my ship, I need to do it.”

The prince took an unsteady step towards the door and nearly collapsed. Iroh’s quick reflexes were the only thing that saved him from hitting the ground. However, just as soon as it had happened, the prince pushed himself out of his uncle’s arms and turned back towards his desk, leaning heavily against it to remain upright.

“I’m fine,” he snapped before Iroh could say anything. “We’ll start at the Western Air Temple since that’s closest to our current location,” Zuko continued, not missing a beat. “Then we’ll check the remaining Air Temples. We’ll scour the whole world if that’s what it takes. I will find the Avatar.”

Iroh didn’t- couldn’t, say anything. He knew that they would never find the Avatar, who had likely died along with the rest of the Air Nomads over a century ago. It was a futile search given by a cruel and uncaring father as a means of getting his son out of his way. But, if this was what it took for Zuko to get through this, to finally see his father for the horrible man that he is- 

Well, then Iroh would follow his nephew to the ends of the Earth.

The rest of the day passed in a blur and at the end of it, Iroh was drained, both physically and mentally. Despite it being Zuko’s first day fully conscious, he had been working nearly constantly to make his plans for how he would find and capture the Avatar and even Iroh could barely keep up. The poor kid didn’t know how to take a break.

At least Iroh had convinced him to turn in early for the night. He had tried to argue, but even Zuko, stubborn as he was, was forced to acknowledge the fact that he was dead on his feet and agreed to go to bed right after dinner. 

Or at least, that’s what Zuko said he would do. However, when Iroh passed his room on the way to his own, he was surprised to find the light still on and the door slightly ajar.

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh called apprehensively, unsure of what he would find as he slowly pushed open the door. “Are you- oh…”

The scene laid before him was heartbreaking. His nephew was pressed into the back corner of his room, face pressed into his knees which were drawn up tight. His body shook with silent sobs. Iroh noticed blood on his knuckles and traced it back to the shattered remains of a mirror a couple feet away. At its base, the bandages that had been wrapped around the prince’s eye.

“Oh, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said softly, making his way towards the boy. “It’s going to be okay.” Iroh was now crouched in front of the boy, who still hadn’t acknowledged his presence. He reached out a comforting hand towards the prince’s shoulder, but realized his mistake too late.

As soon as Zuko felt Iroh’s hand, he flinched so hard he nearly fell over. His body position immediately adjusted itself, almost subconsciously, so that he now sat cross-legged with his back ramrod straight against the wall, body trembling and terror evident in his red-rimmed eyes. Iroh immediately withdrew his hand and backed away slightly to give the boy space.

“It’s going to be okay, Prince Zuko,” Iroh repeated. “I promise that I will never hurt you.”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko gasped out, borderline panic in his voice. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- I didn’t- I-I-.”

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh said again, careful to keep his voice gentle while still being firm enough to get the prince’s attention. “You do not have to apologize because you did nothing wrong. You’re only human, just like everyone else, and you have been through so much recently.” Iroh noticed Zuko’s breathing quicken even more, so he changed course. “It’s going to be okay. I will never hurt you, nor will anyone else on this ship. You’re safe here.”

After several more minutes of murmuring quiet words of encouragement, the prince’s heart rate and breathing finally seemed to slow and Iroh let himself relax just a bit. It may have just been his imagination, but he thought he saw Zuko do the same. 

“That’s it, there we go. Now, why don’t we go back to my room for a calming cup of jasmine tea?” The boy gave a small nod and began to rise unsteadily to his feet. Iroh offered his hand for support, but wasn’t surprised when it was ignored.

They walked slowly back to Iroh’s room, where he brewed them each a cup of tea. The two sat in silence as they drank; Zuko staring blankly into his cup while Iroh studied the tired boy sitting before him.

When Zuko was little, there was this spark in his eyes. Iroh first noticed it when the boy discovered his firebending. He saw it again whenever the boy would feed the turtle ducks or play with him or his mother or even Azula before Ozai turned them against one another. That spark used to be so bright and full of life, a sign of his carefree innocence. But years of struggle and strife had not been kind.

Ozai was the type of man who demanded perfection in every aspect of his life. And Zuko had never been perfect. Unlike Azula, a firebending prodigy, Zuko struggled to master his forms. While she quickly advanced through her training, Zuko was left behind. And though he always tried his best and worked hard, it wasn’t enough for Ozai, who perceived his son’s struggles as failure. As weakness. And so, Ozai demanded more. Pushed him even harder. And Zuko complied.

Hours upon hours of training- Zuko was always pushing himself harder, all to gain approval from his father. But that approval never came and so Iroh watched as all those hours of training began to eat away at the boy. It broke his heart to see that spark in the boy’s eyes, once so vibrant and impassioned, slowly becoming dimmer and dimmer.

Before Zuko had woken up on this ship, Iroh had feared that Ozai may have managed to extinguish it once and for all. But now, as he stared at the boy before him, who had wordlessly curled up on Iroh’s bed and promptly passed out, he saw something that gave him hope. Though that same spark he had had when he was still an innocent kid, untouched by the horrors of the Fire Nation, was gone, it had been replaced by something new. A different kind of spark. In this spark there was strength and determination. Despite Ozai’s best efforts, Iroh knew Zuko’s spirit had not been broken and so, there was hope.

\-----

“Uncle Iroh?” A voice called as he passed Zuko’s room the next day. Iroh hadn’t seen the boy all morning and figured he must’ve slipped out of Iroh’s room before he had woken up. It didn’t surprise him that the boy wanted to ignore what had happened last night and was instead throwing himself back into his hunt for the Avatar. But still, Iroh wished he had slept at least a little longer; the signs of exhaustion and illness were still clearly marked upon his nephew’s face. 

“I was wondering if you could, uh…” Zuko trailed off as Iroh entered the room, showing him the razor in his hand. “It’s tradition, but I, uh, I still can’t…” He trailed off again, not meeting Iroh’s eyes, but he understood what the boy was asking. Even if he didn’t like it.

It was customary for the loser of an Agni Kai to shave their head, apart from their topknot, as a sign of their shame. Iroh wished he could have told Zuko that he didn’t have to follow tradition, especially when the circumstances of his duel were so untraditional. But he knew that it would not go over well. Not after yesterday. The wound was too fresh. Quite literally, as Zuko had admitted he still couldn’t see or hear out of that side of his face.

And so, Iroh pushed down his feelings. He would support his nephew’s decision, even if he didn’t agree with it.

“Of course, Prince Zuko. It would be my pleasure.”

Being careful to avoid the shattered remains of the mirror in the corner, Iroh led Zuko over to a chair and gently unwrapped the prince’s bandages before getting to work. The burn was still as angry and red as it had been a week ago when it was first given, but Iroh refused to dwell on that.

Less than 20 minutes later, he was done. 

Now Iroh wasn’t a barber by any means, but he actually surprised himself with how well it turned out. All that remained was his nephew’s traditional Phoenix Tail. 

“Thank you, Uncle,” Zuko said stiffly. There was a slightly pained expression on his face as he ran his hands over his newly shaven head. 

Iroh simply nodded in response, choosing to keep his own expression carefully neutral, even though there were so many things he wanted to say. He wanted to tell his nephew that he shouldn’t have had to shave his head because he shouldn’t have even been challenged in the first place. No thirteen year old kid should ever be challenged to an Agni Kai, regardless of what they did. He wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. None of Ozai’s abuse had ever been his fault because Ozai had been wrong, not him.

More than anything, Iroh wanted to tell him how sorry he was that he let this happen. If this was anyone’s fault, it was Iroh’s. He was the one who had been weak. He stood silently by, for years, as Ozai abused Zuko. He had been there when Ozai publicly mutilated and banished him, his own son. And yet Iroh had still been silent. Complicit. It was all Iroh’s fault and he wanted Zuko to know just how sorry he was for it.

But as much as Iroh wanted to tell Zuko all of this, he couldn’t. Not yet. He knew that Zuko wasn’t ready to hear it, not when his father’s words were still so fresh in his mind.

And so, Iroh would wait. He would wait until Zuko was ready to hear these words, when he finally saw the Fire Lord for the monster that he is. However long it took, Iroh would wait.

Because he would not fail again.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: child abuse (during the Agni Kai flashback, but nothing too graphic) and at one point Zuko has panic attack. 
> 
> Hello! It's been literal years since I've written anything and even longer since I've written something that wasn't in some way based off a school assignment. But, I watched Avatar for the first time about a month ago and quickly became obsessed (especially with my son Zuko), so here we are.
> 
> There's a possibility I might write a sequel because I do have some more ideas that could fit well with this, but we'll see how it goes. As always, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! :)


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